


Trespasses Sweetly Urged

by Rhanon_Brodie (Glass_Jacket)



Series: Kodachrome [3]
Category: Arctic Monkeys, British Singers RPF, Indie Music RPF
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, all the kisses, and not very well, but important kisses, but not really, i only know latin, italian language skills, mentions of dante's inferno, not all of them really that would be a lot, romantic and gooey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:01:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Jacket/pseuds/Rhanon_Brodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you haven’t gotten it down to a science by now, I doubt you ever will," or Five Times Jamie and Alex Kissed</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> All recognizable elements herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.
> 
> Summary more or less sums it up. I used two translations of the last verse of Canto XXXIV of Dante's Inferno; I also used the Italian, but it was googled so if it's not quite right, chalk it up to creative license.

_**London, 2013** _

The moment Jamie saw Alex in his black-on-black suit, hair neatly combed back, white rose tucked into his lapel, he knew he was going to be just fine.

Mind you, he was in a rush to get down the aisle, speak the magic words just so they could kiss and be married, but Alex smirked as they met in the middle. “Slow down, babeh,” he chided, pausing to look over Jamie’s all white suit, and brush back the loose waves of blond from Jamie’s shoulder. “Got forever to do that.” He knew what was on his soon-to-be-husband’s mind. “Nervous?”

“Incredibly so,” Jamie softly admitted, glancing at the murmur of voices that rose around them as they stalled the ceremony to have a private moment in front of sixty guests.

Alex nodded and fussed over the dark purple rose in Jamie’s boutonniere. “You look great, you know.”

Jamie felt his cheeks heat, and he glanced down at Alex through half-lidded eyes. “So do you,” he murmured, lifting an eyebrow.

“Get your mind out the gutter,” Alex chuckled, his fingers smoothing away imaginary wrinkles in Jamie’s suit. “This thing cost us a small fortune.”

Jamie nodded and stole another glance of the crowd as the watched and waited. “I’m starting to see the genius in your plan to elope.”

“You’re the one that wanted to make a big deal,” Alex reminded him, smiling in a way that made the corners of his eyes crease.

“Yeah, but you always get your way,” Jamie said with a fond grin. “It were time we did something my way.” He winked. “And anyway, your mother would have killed me if I whisked her baby boy away to get married in secret without her knowledge.”

Alex let out a small laugh, and it turned to the throaty giggle that Jamie adored. “Yeah, she’d have killed you, an’ then come after me.” He directed his dark eyes up the center aisle to where his mother and father sat in the front row. Sure enough, Penny Turner was giving her only child a rather expectant look, and Alex stole a quick glance to where Jamie’s father Robert sat on the opposite side of the aisle. He looked a bit concerned, too, if the furrow of his brow was any indication. Jamie got the same look when he worried. “Ey up,” Alex said with a gentle elbow to Jamie’s ribs. “Everybody’s waitin’.” He looked back to Jamie who was staring intently at Alex. “Wot?”

“Nowt,” Jamie answered softly, a gentle smile on his face. “I love you.”

Alex’s gaze shied away from Jamie’s, and his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. When he met Jamie’s eyes once more, he was beaming. “Love you back. Now let’s go tell the world, aye?” He took a step towards the aisle but was stopped by Jamie’s hand closing around his. A second later and he was being pulled, spun towards Jamie like a planet in orbit, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when suddenly he was being kissed.

It was soft, and sweet, and held infinite promise.

Around them, laughter arose, a bit of faint applause with it, and then they heard a throat clearing pointedly. The tone was familiar, and Jamie and Alex broke apart, but stood with barely an inch between them as they flashed goofy, lovelorn smiles at Alex’s best man, Miles.

“You know, they’ve written that part in and the _end_ of the ceremony,” Miles quipped dryly.

Alex giggled under his breath, and Jamie’s cheeks flushed, but his fingers tightened around Alex’s. “Aye,” Jamie muttered. He turned back to Alex, gazing into those dark eyes. “Joost practicing.”

Miles snorted and rolled his eyes. “If you haven’t gotten it down to a science by now, Cook, I doubt you ever will.”


	2. Chapter 2

_**London, 2009** _

Their second date saw them at _The Duck and Lion_ , and though Alex had been wary, their first date the night before at _The Rose_ had been a success as far as first dates go. Jamie had fit right in, looking at home in the big wingback, his navy wool sweater hugging his shoulders, blond hair pulled back earlier in the day, but pieces falling around his eyes by the evening. They’d talked about everything: music, beer, movies, school, family - nothing seemed off limit. Jamie had even impressed Alex with his knowledge of Shakespeare, and a little bit of Byron. The books surrounding them had been useful, pulled off shelves to prove one another wrong when things were misquoted. They’d stayed past midnight, and Alex hadn’t even been that perplexed about the late hour, despite the early lecture the next morning he’d yet to prep notes for. And at the end of the evening, when Jamie had walked him back to his dorm, they’d walked close, shoulders bumping one another, fingers brushing over the backs of hands, quick, stealthy glances, and soft giggles to match the blushing cheeks and racing hearts.

But when Jamie had said goodbye, he hadn’t made a move to kiss Alex, and Alex had been so confused by the non-action, that he’d merely nodded when Jamie asked if he could call him, and then they said their goodbyes. The elevator ride up gave Alex more than ample time to analyze the situation, going over every minute detail, trying to figure out if he’d given the wrong signal, or rather no signal at all, that would tell Jamie he wasn’t interested. By the time he got to his floor and had fished his keys out, he hadn’t come up with any sort of answer and pulled out his cellphone to dial Beth, when the device suddenly rang. Jamie’s number flashed on the screen, and Alex quickly answered.

“H-hello?”

“Hey. It’s Jamie. Just wanted to say again that I had a really great time tonight. Do you maybe want to...join me at _The Duck and Lion_ on Wednesday night?”

“Absolutely,” Alex blurted out.

“Perfect. Pick you up at yours? Round eight?”

“Eight is great,” Alex said, mentally smacking himself at the rhyming answer.

Jamie chuckled on his end. “Right. See you then. Have a good night, Alex.”

“You, too,” Alex murmured dreamily. He hung up and leaned against his door with a sigh.

Then, he’d gone into full panic mode.

By the next morning, he’d almost made himself sick and had hardly slept, worrying about going to the popular bar that Jamie’s crowd frequented. Beth had sensed his despair, and had cornered him in the department lounge while he made a cup of tea.

“What’s up with you?” She muttered, looking him up and down, and then she remembered he’d had his first date with Jamie the previous night. “You look like you haven’t slept - Alex you _didn’t_ ,” Beth gasped, giving him a suggestive look.

Alex snorted. “Hardly,” he murmured into his mug.

“Didn’t it go well?” Beth was hesitant to ask, but it seemed as though Alex wasn’t going to be forthcoming with any details at all.

“It were amazing,” Alex admitted, smiling a little.

“O-kay,” Beth prompted. “But?”

“He didn’t kiss me.”

Beth blinked at Alex. “He...didn’t kiss you.”

“At the end of the night,” Alex hastened to explain. “We had an awesome time - talked about everyfin’, yeah? Laughed, and bullshitted an’ maybe there were a few times our hands brushed, an’ we didn’t have to say owt, y’know? Just sorta lookin’ at one another an…” Alex trailed off, remembering how Jamie’s blue eyes swept over him again and again. “He gives me shivers,” Alex admitted with a helpless shrug. “But apparently I don’t do the same for him.”

Beth raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe. Did he ask you for a second date?”

Alex tilted his head back and forth. “Yeah, actually. He did. Like, right after he walked me home-”

“Walking you home is good,” Beth pointed out.

Alex glared at her for a moment. “After he walked me home, he called me. Like, I weren’t even in me room yet, an’ he’d called me. Asked me out for tonight.”

Beth remained silent, hoping the other shoe would drop.

“Wants to go to _The Duck and Lion_.”

“Oh,” Beth replied in a, uncertain voice. She knew Alex’s distaste of the place, made abundantly clear when they’d visited during his second week in London, after transferring. Nothing terrible had happened directly to him, but he’d been nervous the whole time in a large, loud room filled with jocks and students from the technical vocations. “I’m sure - no, I’m _positive_ you’ll be fine,” Beth continued. “I mean, if it were really dangerous, do you actually think Jamie would take you there? And it’s a Wednesday, how busy could it be?”

+

 _It’s a campus bar_ , Alex internally groused as Jamie led him past the bar and subsequently, a boisterous group of undergrads, _of **course** it’s busy. When is it not busy?_ He felt his shoulders tense as they slipped between the students who laughed and swilled pints, but he forced himself to focus on Jamie’s queue, and trudge on to wherever they were going.

“Ah, it’s empty,” Jamie exclaimed. 

The back booth next to the dart boards was blessedly free, a cozy corner carved out of the chaos, dimly lit and hidden from the main area of the pub. He threw a grin over his shoulder, but it faltered as he noticed Alex’s wide eyes, frantically moving over the people milling back and forth. Jamie stopped in his tracks and, thankful for the throng of people, reached out and snagged Alex’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

Alex’s eyes snapped to Jamie, his mouth open in surprise, and Jamie smiled broadly. “Almost there.” He winked, and tugged Alex closer, and then steered the slighter lad to their destination.

“You don’t care for crowds, do you?” Jamie asked once they’d shed their coats and slid into seats facing one another.

Alex shrugged and snagged the beer menu, giving it a going over. “Not really. Not used to ‘em.”

“We can go somewhere else if-”

Alex’s gaze swept up from the menu to land on Jamie, and he shook his head, before glancing about the area in which they sat. “No, this is good.” A small smile appeared on his face as he looked to Jamie once more. “I like it here.”

Jamie had noticed last night that Alex’s smile was infectious, and it reached all corners of his face, especially those by his eyes. And his nose, bless the largeness, scrunched up when he smiled. Defenseless against it, Jamie found his mouth curving upwards anytime Alex’s did. Now was no different, and he replied in a gentle, sincere voice, “Me, too.”

+

“M’sorreh, Jameh,” Alex rasped, voice turned thick and warm with his third whiskey. “But that’s where you’re wrong.”

Halfway through a sip of lager, Jamie made a sound of disagreement, and smiled as he pulled the glass away and swallowed. “No,” Jamie grinned, “I’m fairly certain I’m correct on this.”

Alex made a face and snorted. “You’re questioning me? An English student?”

Jamie shrugged and leaned forward on his elbows, narrowing his eyes at Alex. “Are you saying that joost because I’m in architecture school, I don’t know my Dante?”

“M’not sayin’ tha’ at all,” Alex replied with a rather haughty tone. He lifted his narrow shoulders in a careless movement, but his mahogany eyes were shining, and playful. “M’joost sayin’ tha’ I know it a lit’l bit better than you.”

“You wanna make a bet?” Jamie growled, his smile curling upwards as Alex’s appeared.

“Do you carry a book of Dante around wiv you?” Alex smirked and picked up his glass, draining it. When Jamie merely cocked an eyebrow in askance, Alex sat back and glanced at where the other patrons of the bar were still happily milling - albeit, a bit more rowdy than when they’d walked in. He’d loosened up considerably, partly due to the whiskey, but mostly because of Jamie’s presence. The blond was warm, and soothing, like...well, a bit like the golden retriever his oldest friend Matthew had owned when he was small. But Jamie was a lot better looking. And he smelled better. And he made Alex feel that funny little flip in his belly each time Jamie smiled, or said his name.

“I just happen to know of a library,” Jamie began, making his eyebrows bounce. “We could walk there in less than fifteen minutes.”

Alex giggled, and Jamie shifted as pleasure bloomed with the warm, gravelly sound. “Oh, aye,” Alex drawled. “Took you...what, seven minutes to run?”

“I was in jeans and blazer. I can do it in five.”

“Ah,” Alex sighed, perhaps a little more wistfully than he’d hoped for. He felt his cheeks heat, but chalked it up to the whiskey.

“So, let’s go.”

“What?” Alex blinked and gave Jamie a strange look.

“Get your coat, c’mon,” Jamie replied, already digging his wallet out of his jeans. “I’ll leave cash, let’s go the library, Turner.”

Alex gaped up at Jamie as he stood next to the table and shrugged into his wool coat and wound a well-loved charcoal coloured scarf around his neck. “Unless you’re scared I’m right?”

“Pffft.” Alex waved Jamie’s bluff aside and stood, too, pulling his coat on and tugging his dark wool cap down over his curls. “Lead the way, Cook.”

+

The walk over had served to sober some of Alex’s bravado, and now standing at the loading dock entrance to the library while Jamie slid the key into the lock he looked around nervously, his breath puffing in the gelid air.

“Maybe this innit sooch a good idea,” Alex murmured, casting a wary glance over his shoulder.

“Relax,” Jamie replied as he twisted the key. The lock popped open and he turned to look at Alex. “I’ve a key, s’not like we’re busting a window open. C’mon.” He pulled open the heavy fire door and flipped open a panel on the wall, revealing the keypad to a security system.

“Just how exactly did you get a key to the library?”

Jamie scoffed. “I helped design it, for one.” He said, tapping a few numbers in until an affirmative beep sounded. “There we go.” Cocking an eyebrow at Alex, he gestured to the hallway that would lead to the back offices, and subsequently, the main library. “After you.”

With another rough giggle - a sound that Jamie was swiftly falling in love with - Alex pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning and wandered up the hallway. “An’ for two?”

“Hmm?” Jamie caught up to him, pushing his keyring back into his pocket and shaking the loose pieces of hair from his face. “What’s that?”

“You said, ‘I helped design it, _for one_.’ So, for two, then?”

“Ehhh….” Jamie chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe I...er...went on a date with a student librarian here. Once or twice. It were casual, yeah? Nowt came of it, snogged once or twice, but got the security code out of it. I’ve not used it until now.”

Alex stared, his mouth gaping, and then gasped, although it was playful. “How _dare_ you, bringing me here to where your...tawdry literary trysts took place. What kind of a boy d’ya take me for, Jameh?” His smile broadened, once more reaching the corners of his eyes, as Jamie blushed hotly and did a bit of backpedaling.

“It weren’t...I mean...I told you, nowt happened. Pfft, ‘tawdry’. Honestly.” He snickered. “An’ truthfully, Alex,” Jamie continued, his voice dropping in register and volume, “I take you for a boy who seems innocent, but is quite far from it.” He cocked an eyebrow and moved a little closer to Alex, gnawing on his bottom lip as he looked at Alex’s mouth. “Perhaps I should be worried about me own virtue?”

Trapped in Jamie’s gaze, Alex panted, and zeroed in on the blond’s mouth, licking his own lips in response, feeling heat form in a warm, familiar wave between his hips, and spreading outwards. His heart thudded in his ears as he slowly raised his eyes to meet Jamie’s.

“You’re distracting me,” Jamie muttered, leaning back suddenly, his voice softening, turning casual once more. “C’mon. Book is this way.”

Alex internally groaned at the lost moment, and his hands curled to fists at his side as he trudged after Jamie out of the office area and into the main lobby.

+

“Did you really design tha’?” Alex wondered out loud as he craned his neck to stare up at the domed skylight, a perfect, curving cupola of glass and iron jutting up into the darkness of night and November. The breeze outside had caused the clouds to shift east, and now the brightest stars were visible, forming familiar patterns in the black.

“Yeah,” Jamie breathed, glancing from the shelf where he stood perusing book spines, searching for the volume of Dante knew was up here. He looked at Alex marvelling the skylight and felt a flutter run through him, warm and sure. Now he was determined to find the edition of Dante he’d pawed through endlessly during the long hours he’d spent here working. It was, as he’d been told, the most reliable translation of the twenty-first century. 

Dante’s Inferno had always been a favourite of Jamie’; his interest sparking when he’d studied a portion of it in high school, and his father had mentioned his mother’s love of the epic poem. When his and Alex’s discussion had turned to it that evening, Jamie had been excited to share with Alex his knowledge on the subject. The discrepancy came, of course, when Alex asked Jamie what one of his favourite quotes was. Jamie’s reply had been met with Alex’s pursed smile and the squint of his eyes that told Jamie that perhaps Jamie didn’t know it as well as he’d thought.

Hence the trip to the library. 

“You could help, you know,” Jamie quipped as he drew his finger down another line of books.

Alex chuckled and moved to stand beside Jamie, tilting his head to read titles. “In that much of a hurry to have yourself proven wrong?”

“More like I can’t wait to tell you I was right.”

Alex snorted as he pulled a book from the shelf and flipped it open. “Please,” he murmured, drawing his finger down the table of contents to find the corresponding _canto_. “Thirty three, yeah?”

“No,” Jamie grinned, pulling out another book and opening it. “Thirty _four_.”

Alex made a sound of displeasure and flipped through the pages in his hands. “Here it is,” Alex announced. “ _‘We bounded up, he first and I second, until, through a round opening, I saw some of the lovely things the heavens hold: from there we went outside to gaze at the stars.’_ ”

“Hmmm. When was that edition printed?”

Furrowing his brow, the slighter lad thumbed to the preface and then back to the first few pages, scanning. “Ah...here we are...1997.”

With a grin, Jamie nodded towards the bench next to a row of tables, indicating that Alex should sit.

“Why didn’t you kiss me last night?” The question was out of Alex’s mouth before he’d had time to think about it, and Jamie paused, and blinked at him silently.

“I...um. Well...I didn’t know if...I didn’t want to put any pressure on you. Or meself, actually,” Jamie replied. “I mean...I felt like...like that would be summat any man would do, kiss you after a terrific first date. I wanted to separate myself from everyone else. And I wanted to see you again, without having thoughts of kissing you overshadowing the evening. I’ve a feeling when I do kiss you, I won’t be able to stop thinking about it for a long time after.”

Alex’s expression was one of surprise, and his mouth formed a tiny ‘o’, with which he exclaimed, “Oh,” rather softly. He sank to the bench, and his cheekbones flushed a light pink. “So...you do _want_ to kiss me?”

“Yeah,” Jamie answered with a shrug and a shy grin. “Right from the moment you called me an asshole.”

Alex snickered, laughing so hard that he actually snorted, and then clapped his hands over his mouth, shoulders shaking with mirth. His eyes danced as he watched Jamie smile fondly and shake his head.

“Did you just giggle-snort, Turner?”

Another guffaw of laughter bubbled up from Alex and he tugged his cap from his head, ruffling his hair nervously. “Don’t blame me, Cook- _hic!_ -ie. Blame the whiskey.”

Cocking his head, Jamie looked closely at Alex. “You just...called me _Cookie_.”

“I did not,” Alex hastily replied, shaking his head and trying to sound innocent.

“Yeah,” Jamie drawled. “You did.” The smile on his face grew wider.

“Din’t,” Alex insisted. “It were a hiccup, I’ve been drinkin’-”

“I love it,” Jamie interrupted Alex’s excuses.

Alex made another small sound and bit his bottom lip, cheeks turning pinker. Silence descended over them for a moment, and they stole glances at one another for a spell before Alex cleared his throat and gestured to the book in Jamie’s hands. “Eh...um...Dante, then. You were going to prove me wrong.”

“Aye, that,” Jamie nodded. “Humor me, it’s been a while.” Straddling the bench and facing Alex, Jamie opened the book, flicked to the correct page and skimmed to the last verse and then began to recite, “ _Salimmo sù, el primo e io secondo, tanto ch’i’ vidi de le cose belle che porta ’l ciel, per un pertugio tondo. E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle._ ”

Alex stared, awestruck with the words Jamie was forming. He recognized it as Italian, and was fascinated with the sounds, the way Jamie’s mouth moved, the tempo and the accent that seemed practically flawless. He didn’t even realize Jamie had stopped speaking until suddenly those blue eyes were looking into his dark ones, waiting for a reaction.

“What did you say?” Alex whispered gently, afraid to break the mood.

Another smile flitted on Jamie’s face, this one slightly bashful, and he carefully slid forward on the bench until his knees were pressed against Alex, one into the side of his leg, the other brushing his backside. “Ehhh...it were more or less the same fing you said, yeah? But like...the translation is...a little bit more-”

“Tell me,” Alex begged, his voice husky, his breathing deep and rapid. “Tell me what you said.”

“Ehhh...yeah.” Jamie cleared his throat and paused, collecting his thoughts. Then, he held Alex’s gaze and repeated from memory, “‘ _We mounted up, he first and I the second, till I beheld through a round aperture some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear; Thence we came forth to behold the stars_.’”

Unable to wait any longer, Alex immediately closed the distance between him and Jamie, and kissed him. He heard a quick intake of breath - a gasp of surprise, he was certain; the move was decidedly non-Alex, he later determined. In the moment, however, nothing passed through his mind beyond the feel of Jamie’s mouth against his - warm, soft, pliant, and sweet. It was a scant press of lips at first, and Alex drew back, ready to murmur an apology for his exuberance when Jamie’s hand slid behind Alex’s neck and drew him back in for another taste, this one slower, and much deeper than the first. 

They groaned together, the sound deep, resonating in the stillness of the library. By the time they parted, they were both panting, and Alex’s hands had found the front of Jamie’s sweatshirt, clutching the older lad closer to him, preparing to climb into his lap if given leave.

“Oh,” Alex murmured dazedly, opening his eyes slowly. What he saw made his belly flip: Jamie’s face was flushed, his lips swollen, and his eyes were bright with excitement.

Jamie nodded at Alex’s exclamation. “Aye,” he nodded. “That were-” Jamie paused and took a breath - “Joost...I don’t think I’d ever grow tired of that. Your lips on mine.”

It was Alex’s turn to nod, frantically this time, and he giggled, giddy with adrenaline. “Kiss me again,” he demanded hotly, already bringing their faces together, hauling Jamie forward by his shirt once more.

The blond went gladly. “Does this mean I’m right?” He growled between soft, wet presses of Alex’s lips against his.

“Aye, aye,” Alex breathed without hesitation. “I’ll gladly admit it.”

“Then let’s go,” Jamie murmured, sliding up off the bench and finding his feet. He wobbled a little, and gathered his and Alex’s coat, and slipped the copy of Dante under his arm. Then, he extended his free hand to Alex. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home again.”

Alex stood, shifting his hips and blushing madly. “I...um...yes...walking could be...ah...oh, bother,” he muttered, snatching his coat from Jamie and holding it in front of his belt.

Jamie chuckled, and dug a quick hand into his pocket, rearranging. “Hmm. Quite.”

+

“You will kiss me this time, won’t you?” Alex wondered as they neared the dorm building where he lived. “Coz, you know...I kissed you back there an’...” He shrugged, trailing off to fish for his keys.

Jamie nodded. “F’course I will.”

“Kay,” Alex nodded before biting his lip. “Um...can we...I mean, should we...here...or…?”

Jamie took a step closer. “We can do it here,” he breathed, cupping Alex’s cheeks with warm hands and tilting his mouth up to his. He kissed Alex softly, before speaking again. “An’ we can do it in the elevator. An’ at your door. An’ before I say goodnight. Told you, I’m not likely to grow tired of it.”

“Me, either,” Alex confessed. He pressed up on his toes and kissed Jamie’s cheek, giggling at the scrape and tickle of his beard against his nose. “God, you’re wonderfully fuzzy, you know tha’? I may ask you to keep me warm this winter.”

“I’ve no other plans,” Jamie admitted with a grin.

They kissed again in the elevator, and once more when they stepped off, and again in front of Alex’s door. Finally, Alex broke free, running his tongue over his tingling bottom lip while he stared up at Jamie from under his lashes. “Thank you,” he gently said. “For the evening. It were wonderful.”

Jamie winked and scratched the back of his head. “So...can I see you tomorrow?”

Alex fit his key into the lock on his door and opened it, and then looked back at Jamie. “I’ve got late classes...but I’m usually hungry after. Wanna get summat to eat?”

Jamie nodded and stepped in again. “In the meantime...let me give you summat to remember me by.”

Alex gave a playful sigh but turned back to Jamie, eyes closing and lips already pursing. He waited a second, and when the kiss didn’t come, he opened his eyes, ready to protest, when he felt the weight of Dante’s _Inferno_ fill his hands.

“Study hard, Alex,” Jamie said with a arched brow. “I’d hate for you to be wrong again.” He flashed a roguish smile.

Alex snorted and took the book, turning it over in his hands. “Being wrong has never felt so damn good.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers apply. See the first chapter for full disclosure. 
> 
> So, remember in 'In Through the Out Door' I left Alex and Jamie speeding towards one another on separate trains after they had a row before Jamie left for school? I couldn't not continue that part. Takes place in 2010 while they're still in college. I highly suggest you find yourself a link to Richard Hawley's 'Tonight' and put it on a loop because that song was my inspiration for this, as well as the changing weather right now. This hit me direct in the feels in all the best ways, and i hope it does the same for all of you.

_**Warrington Station, January 2010** _

There was something to be said about traveling by train, near midnight, in a snowstorm. It were almost sickeningly romantic, if Jamie was being honest with himself, but he couldn’t find the wherewithal to care. Pressing his head against the glass, and watching the dark landscape move by, his only thoughts were of Alex.

God, he’d been a world-class prat to him, calling out his insecurities like they were no big deal. It was something Jamie had struggled with his whole life: he couldn’t really identify with people who were shy, or socially awkward, or introverted - that just wasn’t his nature. But Alex was different, and he knew it - Alex was more than the shy boy who got anxious when asked to insert himself into a situation where he’d know exactly one person. Jamie had seen on several occasions in their short courtship that when Alex knew people, and trusted them, he was witty, adorably sweet, and frustratingly charming. In the heat of the moment of their last argument, however, Jamie couldn’t see beyond his needs, and his own brash reasoning for Alex to be there. He’d been selfish, not understanding, and despite the conversation he’d had with Nick and Kelly only hours before, it was eating away at him the closer he got to London.

He didn’t have words prepared; he didn’t have a plan at all, and when the train pulled into Warrington Station he disembarked, and took a moment out on the platform to inhale the cool air that mingled with engine grease and the smell of cold steel. As the next train to London wouldn’t arrive for another thirty minutes, Jamie shouldered his bag and stole into the station, hoping to snag a coffee at least, and maybe the day’s newspaper so that he could try and occupy his mind with something else.

One of the few vendors still open boasted a fresh pot, and a few things to read other than the newspaper. Skimming the stacks, Jamie’s fingers paused as they flitted over book covers, and he let out a short bark of laughter. A copy of Dante’s Inferno stared back at him, a paperback with a contemporary picture adorning the cover, and he immediately plucked it up and flipped through to the last _canto_ and read his and Alex’s verse. Jamie snorted. It was another dime-store translation, and he shook his head and set the book back among the shelves, wishing at that moment for _their_ copy of the book, the one he’d stolen from the Fraser Memorial Library that night of their first kiss.

The one he’d hastily handed back to Alex before more or less shoving him out the door without so much as a goodbye or a lasting look.

Inwardly, he groaned, and then paid for his coffee as his thoughts wandered. The stuff in the cup was weak at best; truly, Alex was the only one he knew that could make a proper cup of anything - tea, coffee, margarita...even the water he poured for Jamie somehow tasted better than when Jamie did it himself. Jamie sighed as he shuffled through the station. It was official: he’d fallen for Alex, and he’d fallen hard.

The relative silence of the station was broken with an announcement that the train from London - the one that would double back and take Jamie there - had arrived early, but it needed a quick round of maintenance before it would make the trip back into the city. Checking his watch, Jamie had at least twenty more minutes to kill before he needed to board, and so he paused at the doors that led to the platform and wound his scarf around his neck. It was snowing again - large, fat flakes free falling from pitch, and the platform was filled with those that had just stepped off the train from London, milling about and checking schedules, and their personal items. The light standards that lined the space seemed to be spotlights for their little plots of land and Jamie wandered out into the frigid bustle, leaving the warmth and staleness of the station behind him.

+

At first, he wasn’t quite certain he was seeing what was there, across the tracks, small rucksack slung over a slender shoulder. The person had their back turned towards him; it could have been a seventeen year-old Spanish girl were the wool beanie, and the bottoms of the frayed jeans not decidedly Alex.

_It was Alex_.

But what was he doing in Warrington?

Jamie blinked, and gently moved through the crowd, towards the yellow line, toeing it, glancing left and right, summoning the courage to call Alex’s name across to the other platform.

“Alex!”

There was a moment of panic, of course, when Alex didn’t turn around, and Jamie felt his cheeks flame as he wondered if perhaps he _had_ been wrong, and that wasn’t Alex standing over there, shoulders hunched, looking at something with his head tilted downwards. Then, he turned, and the almost too-big nose was a dead giveaway. Of course, there was the issue- he had his earbuds firmly tucked into his ears and his cap pulled down over them; the thin, white cables snaking down beneath his jacket were more than obvious. A book was clutched in his hands, and though Jamie couldn’t see the title from where he stood, the tome had a familiar shape and size to it.

He cleared his throat and tried calling again, “Alex!” 

A few people looked at Jamie, and then back across the platform, and then proceeded to inform him, “I don’t think he can hear ya, mate,” at which Jamie had to keep himself from growling and rolling his eyes. He watched Alex shuffle in the direction of the walkway that went across the tracks, and Jamie began shoving his way down the platform, desperate to reach him. Grinning madly, and unable to stop himself from doing so, Jamie saw Alex move into the station. Jamie followed, but the crowd seemed to swell at the timetables, as angry voices rose up to speak their displeasure at the evening’s delays. Alex paused, glanced at the timetable, and then made his way to the main entrance of the station, tugging down the wool cap once more, and making his way out into the cold night.

+

The train from London to Warrington had been almost full, which seemed strange for a Saturday night a week after New Years, but Alex paid the crowd little thought during the journey. He’d been focused on the book in his hands, and the Richard Hawley in his ears. By now, he’d memorized the verse of the thirty-fourth _canto_ to Dante’s _Inferno_ , but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t ask Jamie every other day to recite it in Italian ' _joost once more, babeh, an’ I swear I won’t ask again_.' Which, of course, always resulted in Jamie submitting to Alex’s whim, again and again. Jamie didn’t seem to mind, of course; it always led to other vigorous activities that required minimal clothing and optimal amounts of lube - 

Alex felt his cheeks bloom and he quickly glanced up to see the middle-aged woman sitting across from him eyeing him suspiciously.

Alex sank further down into his seat, letting his wool coat swallow him, tucking his chin into his plaid scarf wound neatly about his neck, and flipping the pages of his book back to the beginning. The book itself smelled like the library; like old paper, binder’s glue, and time. In truth, that scent was one of Alex’s favorite (though it didn’t hold a candle to the sweet cedar and citrus of Jamie’s cologne); he almost felt bad for listening to music while he read for he wasn’t able to hear the crack of the worn spine, or the slip of weathered pages under his dry fingertips, but it was a small sacrifice. Besides, he’d been playing Richard Hawley non-stop for days now. If he’d had a roommate back in the dorm, he was certain there would have been an altercation that first day after he’d stormed out of Jamie’s apartment.

He got snagged on the memory and felt a pang in his chest, one of longing, and of regret. He’d really buggered things up this time; his shy nature had always been a point of contention to some degree in any relationship he’d been in, and he’d known from the start that dating Jamie would put his introversion to the test, but why did he have to be so stubborn? A part of him had been ready to fold completely when Jamie had burst into the bathroom on that morning, but he’d been much too proud, and much too focused on Jamie’s shortcomings to find any fault in himself. Only when he’d had lunch with Beth, and had a chance to lay everything out, did he realize what a monumental fuck-up he’d been.

Perhaps he should have called Jamie. He really didn’t have a clue as to where he was going other than Liverpool proper; he didn’t know anyone, had only been to the Wirral a handful of times to see a band with a few mates from back home Sheffield way. Clearly he hadn’t really thought this impromptu trip through; for all the waffling he did back and forth over everything, this was a most decidedly un-Alex thing to do. He was halfway there. He could decide what to do once he pulled into Warrington station - either turn around and go crawling back to London to pine over Jamie for three months, or swallow his pride and call the bearded bastard, and beg his forgiveness.

+

He’d tugged one earbud free when they’d slowed to pull into station, and Alex listened carefully as they announced the train going into Liverpool was delayed due to mechanical reasons. There were a few groans from around him, but Alex took it as a small miracle - now he’d have a bit more time to collect his thoughts and decide what to do. He pushed his earbud back into place, tucked his bookmark into the book and snapped it closed, and then tugged his bag from under his seat. He moved with the crowd, but was lost in his own mind, feet wandering as Hawley sang soft, deep words of heartbreak. He dallied on the platform for only a moment, adjusting to the cold, before following the flow of traffic to the pedway over the tracks, and into the station. He needed a cigarette, and the ‘No Smoking’ signs were abundant out here. He’d have to find shelter in the parking lot - it was still snowing, the flakes fat and fluffy out here, but there was very little wind. Tugging his hat down over his ears, Alex threaded through the throng of travelers, and navigated to the main entrance of the station.

 

He shivered as he trudged through the snow, and fumbled in his inner pocket for his cigarettes. _Inconvenient habit_ , he grumbled inwardly. _Cookie’s always tryna get me to quit, an’ I’m startin’ to see the logic of his argument_. Cupping his hand around the end of the cigarette, he flicked his Zippo to life and touched it to the end of the tobacco, puffing shortly until it the end flared and glowed. Through his earbuds, the gentle strains of _Tonight_ began, and Alex stepped into the freshly fallen snow surrounding a lamp post and slowly began to twirl, not really thinking much of anything but the lyrics being crooned in his ears, and the way the snow seemed to fall more slowly. He sang with Hawley, murmuring along with the notion that tonight, he did have it really bad. He took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out, stepping around the lamp post, tilting his face up to the singular light and the snow before glancing to the station.

And towards Jamie.

Alex froze mid-step and blinked, and wiped at his eyes.

It couldn’t be possible, and yet there was Jamie, making his way through the snow until he stopped, noticing that Alex had noticed him.

“J-Jameh?” Alex searched his pockets for his phone to shut the music off, dropped his cigarette in the process, and looked back up at Jamie as silence filled his ears. He pulled the buds free and gaped. “What-”

“I were comin’ back to you,” Jamie hastily admitted, stepping into the glow of the streetlamp. “What are _you_ -”

“Same,” Alex breathed gently. “I...I can’t let you go wivout sayin’...that...I…” Alex cursed the knots in his tongue and blinked the snowflakes from his eyelashes.

Jamie filled the quiet. “No, I was an arse-”

“I was selfish-” Alex blurted out at the same time.

They both stopped to look at one another, still separated by a foot of loneliness and longing. Their smiles started slowly, and built until they matched one another, and then they were moving closer, fingers curling in anticipation to grasp, to hold on and never let go.

Their collision was spectacular, a tangle of limbs, a press of lips and bodies that was warm, and urgent. Jamie cupped Alex’s face tightly, pulling the lad closer to him with each pass of his mouth, and Alex went willingly, clutching Jamie’s ribs and butting teeth and tongues. Four days apart suddenly felt like forever, and Alex’s throat ached with the intensity of the moment. Jamie pulled back by a fraction of an inch, opening his eyes and seeing Alex’s at half mast - the way Alex kissed like that, always watching, wanting to see it all, always sent Jamie reeling, and now was no exception. 

The older lad traced sharp cheekbones with his thumbs before breathing over the waiting mouth, “I saw you.” He paused and stole another series of short, bursting kisses. “I saw you on the platform and,” he groaned as Alex whimpered and slid his tongue out over his bottom lip, “and I knew that this...that whatever that was that morning, we can get past it. We have to. There’s no other reason for you and I to be here in this moment other than-”

Alex pushed up on his toes and cut Jamie off, too afraid to hear what he knew Jamie was about to say. He felt it, as surely as Jamie did, of that he had no doubt. But to put the words out into the ether was another thing entirely. Instead, Alex kissed Jamie and took pleasure in the way his beard scratched him, the way Jamie’s thigh fit against his pelvis and teased him, the hum of Jamie’s voice as Alex’s fingers tugged and twirled the blond queue at the back of Jamie’s head.

Jamie broke the kiss, albeit reluctantly, and pressed his forehead against Alex’s, his hands falling to narrow hips. “What were you listening to?”

“Hmm?” Alex pulled back and blinked up at Jamie, a dazed smile on his face.

Jamie moved a hand to pluck the earbuds hanging at the collar of Alex’s jacket. He slipped one into his ear and nodded for Alex to do the same. “You were completely in another world.”

“I were in your arms,” Alex softly sighed, slipping a hand into his pocket to press ‘play’ once more. “Always am, when I’m dreamin’ like that, awake or otherwise. You’ve got me in a spin, Jameh Cook, and I don’t intend to gain my footing any time soon.”

Jamie grinned at Alex’s words, and at the sound of Richard Hawley. “You’re cruel,” he breathed, laughing as Alex snorted and rolled his eyes. “But I like that,” he continued, “because I’m just a fool for you.” He took up holding Alex’s waist once more and slowly moved his feet until they were spinning in their own little bubble, snow falling round as the world fell away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in 2010 after Jamie's semester abroad - it's time to introduce Alex to Robert Cook, Jamie's father, and a few revelations are made. I apologize for the lateness of this; as a result, the update for DTI may also be a day or two late. Thanks for all the niceness. <3

_**Liverpool 2010** _

To say that the Cook house in Woolton, Liverpool, was large was an understatement. Alex watched the house come into view as he and Jamie pulled up in the cabbie rounding the drive. It was, in fact, a veritable mansion faced in brick, with large windows cresting the west and east ends. Topiaries graced either side of the extra-wide doorway, and the cabbie slowed to a crawl, tires crunching over gravel before stopping at the front stoop. Alex continued to stare as Jamie paid the fare, riveted to the seat and so preoccupied that he didn’t even notice Jamie had slipped out of the cab until he realized he was watching the denim clad rear-end walk up the steps. Scrambling for the handle, Alex stumbled out of the cabbie, and skidded up the steps to Jamie’s side, wrapping his hand around his bag where Jamie clutched it.

“I got it, Al,” Jamie murmured, leaning down to softly peck his boyfriend’s cheek. “You okay? You look pale,” he frowned, setting their bags down. “You’re nervous.”

“It’s...it’s huge.”

Jamie smirked and gave Alex a coy look. “Baby, we’ve been through this. It _will_ fit, we’ve experimented - several times in fact - _ow_!”

Alex shot Jamie a murderous glare as he smacked him soundly in the chest. “Jamie!”

“Okay, all right!” Jamie laughed, looping his hand around Alex’s for another moment. He kissed the knuckles tenderly and held Alex’s gaze. “But, like...eh...don’t let it intimidate you,” he mumbled, unable to keep a straight face.

“Great,” Alex groaned, rolling his eyes upwards. “Here I am meetin’ your father for the first time, an’ all you can do is make dick jokes.”

Jamie snickered and broke out into a fit of giggles, to which Alex tried to level a stern gaze. When that didn’t work, he huffed and reached for the door handle, but Jamie stopped him. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, still smiling. “I’ll stop. No more jokes this weekend. I won’t be funny at all.”

“Don’t be an arse,” Alex sighed, trying to sound put out.

“You love it,” Jamie insisted, kissing Alex’s cheek once more before turning back to the door.

Alex gave Jamie a peculiar look as Jamie knocked on the front door and waited patiently. In the silence that followed, Jamie glanced to Alex and blinked, frowning at Alex’s expression.

“Wot?” Jamie asked slowly.

“You knocked,” Alex pointed out lamely.

“Ehh...yeah?” Jamie motioned at the door. “I dunno if he’s home or not.”

“But...didn’t you grow up here?”

“Well, yeah but...it’s not me house, yeah? Can’t just walk in, can I?”

Alex gaped for a moment and looked perplexed. “I...I mean, that’s what I do. When I go home to me mum and da’s. Joost sorta...walk in. Or I use me keys.”

“I’ve not had keys for here since I went to London, Al,” Jamie smiled. He was about to say more when the door opened, and they were greeted by a rather tall, blonde woman in her sixties.

“Jamie!” The woman smiled excitedly, trace of something Scandinavian lacing his name, and she immediately swept the young man into a warm embrace.

“Hi, Magda,” Jamie answered sweetly, holding the woman at arm’s length after a moment. He watched her grey eyes move to Alex, who still stood half-behind Jamie. 

“Is this Alex?”

“Dad mentioned him?”

Magda’s smile broadened. “Pft, of course, Jamie. Said you were bringing a friend home from college, but didn’t say a thing about how handsome he was. Hello, young man.” Magda winked and put her hand out. “I’m Magda - Mr. Cook’s housekeeper. Mender of Jamie’s trousers.”

Alex giggled and took Magda’s hand, shaking it heartily. “Hullo, there. Nice to meet you. Mender of trousers, you say?”

Magda winked. “I’ve stories, young man. But later, yes? Jamie, Alex, please, come in,” she welcomed, moving aside and gesturing into the house. “We’ll set you up in the guest room down stairs?”

Jamie coughed and glanced back to Alex before looking to Magda once more, his face a little pink. “Oh...ehh...don’t know what...if Da will...maybe Alex down here and I’ll take me old room?” 

Magda turned from where she was leading Jamie and Alex into the cavernous front entry and she looked from the blond to the brunet, and then back to the blond. “Oh - oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought that you two...were…” she blushed and became flustered.

“We are,” Jamie replied. “I mean...yeah, we are, since...what, November, Al?”

“Yeah, about then,” Alex agreed quietly with a nod.

Another look of confusion passed over Magda’s, but she was quick to smile, and change the subject. “Dinner is at seven; your father said he’d be home by six. That gives you a few hours to settle in…” she trailed off. “I’ll let you take care of the...sleeping arrangements, Jamie. When you’re ready, come up to the kitchen, I took the liberty of getting Boddington’s in honor of your stay.”

Jamie smiled and thanked her, and then turned back to Alex once they were alone. The younger man was busy gawking once more, his gaze trained upwards to the skylights, turning to follow the arched ceilings, and then landing on the open concept dining room and living room.

“You hidin’ your brothers and sisters in here?” Alex tried to joke. He couldn’t help the sound of awe in his voice as he took a cautious step into the foyer.

Jamie snickered. “Hardly. Joost me an’ da. After...well…” He gave a small sigh and followed the line of sight Alex was lost in. “Da built it after his first major deal, yeah? He asked mum to marry him, an’ they wanted a big family. Lots o’kids.” Alex looked back to Jamie, and Jamie gave a little shrug. “Always had the room,” he mumbled, sounding a little lost. “Anyway after mum passed, he refused to sell it. Continued to renovate. Turned into this. More like an oasis, really. He spends most of his time in the office. But it’s nice to have the space when his brothers visit.” A little bit of humor returned to Jamie’s voice at the mention of his extended family.

“It’s...really quite…”

“Ostentatious ,” Jamie grinned, taking up Alex’s hand in his.

“But homey,” Alex countered, squeezing Jamie’s hand. “I like Magda.”

“Wanna see the pool?”

Alex’s eyes bugged out of his head. “You have a pool?”

Jamie smiled and tugged Alex towards the living room. “Come on,” he said, “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

+

“So, there’s poor Jamie, struggling to hold it together while his tattered pants are falling around him. Needless to say, that was the _last_ time this young man decided to scramble over a barbed wire fence to save a football.”

Alex burst out laughing at Magda’s riveting tale, and fixed his eyes on Jamie, who bowed his head in embarrassment, but laughed along anyway. Shaking his hair from his face he looked to Alex, softening his smile, and catching the warmth in those dark eyes. His heart gave a funny little lurch, and Jamie quickly took another sip of his beer, before standing to place a warm hand on Magda’s shoulder.

“Aye, an’ that’s the _last_ story you’ll be tellin’, dearie,” Jamie huffed, before he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Magda scoffed and shoved Jamie off, but threw a wink back at Alex before turning to the stove once more, stirring the large pot that wafted with the scent of beef stew, Jamie’s favorite of her dishes.

Alex watched the interaction, and though he was warm with the obvious affection between the two, he couldn’t help the twinge he felt at the idea that the affection Jamie sought with the housekeeper was a result of his mother’s absence. He knew Jamie was rather young when she’d died, no more than four or five, and concluded that Jamie’s ability to be warm and receiving was no doubt a product of Magda’s upbringing. Alex hadn’t known the woman for more than that afternoon, but he was comforted by the thought that Jamie had been fortunate to have her in his life. 

The sound of the door that led into the three-car garage opening and closing pulled Magda’s attention around, and she nodded at Jamie before she picked up a kitchen towel and wiped her hands. “That’ll be your father, then.”

No sooner had she announced it did Robert Cook make an appearance, pausing as he took in the sight of his housekeeper, his son, and the young, dark-haired man sitting next to him. He looked at Jamie once more and smiled, setting his briefcase on the floor against the wall, and crossing the floor with his hand extended.

“Jamie,” he greeted with a pleased smile. “It’s good to see you.”

Quickly, Jamie slid from his stool and took his father’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Hi, Da. It’s good to be here.”

They shook hands for a few more moments until Robert’s grey gaze flicked to Alex. “You must be Alex?”

Alex was already standing, ready to take Robert’s hand, which landed in his immediately. He matched the pressure he knew he’d encounter, and gave the older man a firm handshake to match his resolve. “I am Alex, yes, hullo.”

“Ehhh...right, sorry, Alex, me Da, Robert. Da, this is Alex Turner. Me boyfriend.”

During the introduction, Robert had turned his attention to Jamie, but as the word ‘boyfriend’ slipped out, he zeroed in on Alex once more. “Right,” he replied, uncertain as to what he was supposed to say.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Alex stated, sounding more confident than he felt. He let go of Robert’s hand and glanced about the kitchen and said, “thank you for having me here this weekend, Sir.” He looked to Robert once more. “It really is a magnificent home. You’re a fortunate man to come home to this.”

Robert contemplated Alex for a moment, looking him in the eye and finding himself a mite startled at the wisdom that was held there. It was coupled with sincerity, and Robert found himself smiling despite his uneasiness. “Thank you, Alex. I’m glad you were able to make it. Jamie’s talked about you enough that I feel like I already know you, but meeting someone face to face is different, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” Alex agreed with a nod.

Robert nodded, and then turned to Magda. “It smells amazing in here, as always. Made Jamie’s favorite, I see.”

“Of course,” Magda smiled. “There’s still about thirty minutes until it’s ready; time to change and have a drink with the boys?”

Robert glanced between Alex and Jamie. “Sounds good. I’ll join you two shortly?”

Jamie nodded, but Alex said nothing. When Robert had left the room and was on his way upstairs, Jamie let out a breath and looked to Alex. “You okay?”

Alex chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s joost...Da can be...I mean...he weren’t exactly...welcoming.”

“I didn’t think he were that bad,” Alex shrugged. “Can’t be easy meeting your son’s boyfriend for the first time, eh? I think that threw him off. The word ‘boyfriend.’”

Jamie moved to the fridge and fetched another beer for both of them. “No sense in beating ‘round the bush.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You just want to state our relationship so we can share a bed tonight.” He grinned as Jamie tried to look scandalized.

“It’s his house,” Jamie reiterated as they moved into the living room. “He can make that call, I suppose.”

“Jamie, I’m your _boyfriend_. We’re in a relationship. You’re telling me that if I were a girl, your Da would make us sleep in different bedrooms?”

‘Ehhh…” Jamie sighed as he landed on the couch and Alex perched beside him. “Probably not.” He handed Alex a beer and cracked open his own.

“So what’s the difference? If it were my home, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

Jamie snorted, and took a swig of beer. When he’d swallowed, he looked back to Alex. “Aye, well, it’s not your home, is it? Not mine, either. It’s me Da’s. An’ my Da, Alex, isn’t like your parents.”

“He’s homophobic, isn’t he?”

“What?” Jamie sputtered, shaking his head. “No, he’s not.” Still, now he was mulling the suggestion over in his mind. He stole a glance of Alex. “Maybe?” he added quietly.

Alex afforded Jamie with a sympathetic smile. “Jamie, I don’t think he’s homophobic. I think he’s... _homouncertain_.”

“Is that even a word?” Jamie murmured, sagging against the cushions.

“If it’s not, then it should be,” Alex replied. He set his unopened can on the low coffee table and turned towards Jamie, resting an arm along the back of the couch so he could ruffle the blond curls at Jamie’s collar. “We’ll play it by ear, yeah? See how dinner goes, that sort of thing. Trust me, babe. I’ve met worse parents. Some of them wouldn’t even let me in the house.”

Jamie swung his gaze back to Alex and frowned. “Now, I can’t understand that,” Jamie he said with a shake of his head. “You’re sooch a nice young man,” Jamie batted his eyelashes and chuckled.

“Aye, a nice young man who likes to take it in the arse,” Alex growled lowly. He reached for his beer and opened it, and took a healthy sip. “Sodomy, for some reason, is always out of fashion.”

Jame made a face. “Don’t call it that. _Sodomy_. Sounds like we’re doin’ summat illegal.”

“It _is_ illegal in some places. What would you like me to call it? Hmm? Anal intercourse?”

“That’s downright clinical,” Jamie snickered. “How about… Butt-fooking.”

Alex smirked and wound his fingers into Jamie’s hair, and tugged playfully. “That what me Cookie wants, eh?” he said softly, glancing at the doorway cautiously. He then pinned Jamie with his heated stare and asked, “To fook me butt?”

Jamie cleared his throat and shifted where he sat, twisting his hips as Alex’s playful tone shot right through his body and took his blood sailing between his thighs. “Yeah, maybe,” Jamie admitted gruffly.

“Hm,” Alex murmured. “Does me Cookie wanna...maybe get naked in that huge swimming pool he calls a bathtub?” Alex moved to balance on his knees and lean towards Jamie, set on perhaps nuzzling the scruff on the underside of his jaw, when the stark sound of a throat clearing made Alex freeze. Slowly, closed his eyes and cursed his poor timing. He heard Jamie give a little snicker, despite the situation, and Alex turned his head towards the sound and pasted a broad smile on his face. “Mr Cook,” he greeted. “Joost...eh...missed your son, is all,” he finished with a mumble, sinking back to his spot on the couch.

Robert surveyed the scene for a moment, taking note of his son’s body language in relation to that of Alex. “Aye. I missed him too.” He smiled wryly and entered the room, taking a seat in the armchair next to the couch. “But you don’t see me climbing the furniture.”

“ _Da_ ,” Jamie growled, raising an eyebrow at his father. “C’mon.”

Alex chuckled. “No, you’re right. M’sorreh, Sir. Me parents didn’t raise a hooligan. Me mum wouldn’t be impressed, either.” He sat a little straighter and tucked his hair behind his ear.

Jamie’s dad waved him off. “Please, call me Robert. And really, it’s fine. I get it. I was young once.” His gaze wavered towards Jamie and he gave a small, sad smile, before turning back to Alex. “What do your parents do?”

“Oh, ehm...Me mum teaches German at a language conservatory in Sheffield and me Da teaches music, actually.”

“Sheffield, eh? I was born in Rotherham; Angie in Redcar.”

Alex blinked at the feminine name and scrambled for his brain to make a connection. “Eh…” It clicked, finally, remembering that Jamie’s mother’s name was Angela. “Right, yes. I…” Alex trailed off and coughed, and looked to Jamie.

“Jamie’s never mentioned her?”

Under the scrutiny of his father and his boyfriend, Jamie shifted on the couch and leaned forward, grabbing his beer and taking another large sip. “I have,” he rasped after he’d swallowed.

Robert frowned and nodded his head once. “I suppose I’m mostly to blame for that - I don’t talk about her much, either.”

Alex opened his mouth, not quite sure what he was going to say, when Jamie suddenly sprung from the couch, empty can in his hand. “I’m gonna get another. You want one, Al?”

“No, m’fine, babe, thank you.” The term of endearment slipped out, and Alex felt his cheeks warm, but he didn’t bat an eye otherwise.

“Da?”

“Whiskey, James. Double neat, aye?”

“Aye,” Jamie replied, before moving towards the kitchen.

Alex and Robert looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Alex took a breath and dove in. “Do you...have a picture of her? Of Angela, I mean? It’s joost...I’ve not seen one before, an’ truth be told, while I see a lot of Jamie in you, Robert, I fail to see the eyes.”

Robert was silent for a spell, and Alex suddenly felt like he’d made a terrible mistake coming out of the gate charging forward. “I’m sorry, that was rude-”

“I think I’ve got something here, hold on.” Robert stood and moved to the bookshelf where there were several albums stacked. He chose one from the bottom of the pile, a fairly hefty tome bound in dark blue. He opened it and flipped a few pages, smiling as he scanned the pictures inside, until he found one he was looking for. “Here it is.” Moving back to his chair, he handed Alex the album, and then sat, watching as Alex studied the photograph. “That was right before Angie got sick,” Robert explained quietly.

Alex glanced up at Robert, and saw the familiar furrow of his brow, the same look Jamie got when troubled. He looked back at the photo and couldn’t help but smile, even as his heart lurched a bit. The picture was obviously taken in the summer, at it appeared to be at a beach somewhere - Italy, perhaps. Angie Cook was petite with honey-colored hair, delicate features, but it was clear where Jamie got his eyes from. She was leaning down, wrapping graceful arms over a young Jamie’s shoulders, holding him still as the photo was taken - he looked ready to bolt, probably to run or swim or do something with all the energy he no doubt had at even that small age. Alex looked back to Robert and saw the lingering heartbreak there, and finally made the connection: Jamie may have had his mother’s eyes, but he carried his father’s grief, as well. He was able to hide it for the most part, but Alex recognized that shadow.

“She’s very beautiful. I’m sorry for your loss, Robert. And for Jamie’s.” He waited a beat as Robert nodded and then looked at his hands. Alex turned the page. “May I take a look?”

Robert nodded, perching on the edge of his chair so that he could give Alex a commentary on the pictures he was looking at. There were a lot of Jamie, at school Christmas pageants (he was dressed as the star of Bethlehem), tobogganing, in the rain, at football games, school portraits...each one made Alex smile, and he could hear the fondness in Robert’s voice as he spoke.

“Jesus Christ, I leave you two alone for five fookin’ minutes an’ you’ve already got the photo albums out. Could you be any more cliche?”

Alex and Robert were both startled out of their conversation, and found Jamie standing over them, his father’s whiskey in one hand, and another can of Boddington’s in the other. Handing the former to his father, Jamie slipped in next to Alex and looked at the album. He snorted, and gave a little smirk. “At least you’ve not got the ones of me bare arse in the bathtub.”

“Oh, those will come after dinner, James.”

Jamie groaned and flopped back into the couch. “Magda!” he suddenly bellowed.

She appeared in the living room a moment later. “Yes, Master Cook?” She gave a small curtsey, obviously taking the piss out of Jamie’s tone, and laughed as Jamie sighed heavily.

“Magda, love, will you be so kind as to _burn_ the photo albums before dessert? I fear me father has brought it upon himself to embarrass me in front of Alex before we’ve even been here for a night.”

“Of _course_ , Master Cook,” Magda replied dramatically. “Would you like me to burn them in the main hearth, or perhaps throw them out back to burn with the hedge clippings?” She winked. “Dinner is ready, boys. Shall we eat?”

“Absolutely,” Robert said, standing and moving towards the kitchen. “Alex, you’re in for a treat. Magda’s beef stew is other-worldly, and happens to be Jamie’s favorite.”

“So I’ve heard. I’ll have to be sure to get the recipe,” he added, following Robert. 

“Good luck wrestling it from her,” Jamie quipped, bringing up the rear. “She’s takin’ it to the grave,” he sighed.

“Alex, you cook?” Robert asked as they took their seats around the table.

Alex shrugged as he arranged his napkin over his lap. “A lit’l. Here an’ there. I’m all right, I suppose.”

“He’s great, actually,” Jamie piped up. “I’ve missed his cooking.” He looked at Alex and gave him a small smile, and slid his hand over Alex’s where it rested on his thigh, giving the digits a squeeze.

“Well, I’m certain there’s an extra apron in the kitchen,” Robert said. “Magda, how about taking a night off while the boys are here?”

“Sounds lovely,” Magda smiled as she began gesturing for bowls so she could serve from where she sat.

“His specialty is pancakes,” Jamie announced. “Any sort of breakfast food, really, but his pancakes are pretty fookin’ amazing.”

Robert raised an eyebrow at Alex. “Cookin’ me boy a lot of breakfasts, are ya?”

Alex worried his bottom lip and cut his gaze to Jamie before meeting Robert’s pointed expression. “Not as of late, obviously. But hopefully when we get back to London. We’re actually headed to Sheffield in a few weeks time - it’s me Aunt Deb’s birthday. An’ me parents want to meet Jamie, of course.” He kept his tone pleasant, but the answer was clear: he wouldn’t be rattled by Mr. Cook. 

Besides, Mr. Cook wasn’t really giving him any ammunition. In fact, Robert seemed more at ease about this first meeting than Jamie did, and that made Alex curious.

“I haven’t been back north in quite some time,” Robert remarked.

“Aye,” Jamie answered uneasily. “Not since Mum-”

“Let’s keep it light, shall we, Jamie?”

Jamie glowered at his father. “ _You’re_ the one who brought it up. I don’t know why, you never seem to want to talk about it - or are you putting on a show for Alex?”

Robert set his spoon down and scowled at his son. “Jamie, if you’ve a problem, we can discuss this like gentlemen away from the table. Alex and Magda don’t need to be our audience.”

“Right, like we’re back in Victorian London or summat?” Jamie groused. “The _women_ don’t need to hear of such things?”

“ _Jamie_ ,” Alex snapped, pulling his hand from where Jamie was clinging to it.

Jamie glanced at Alex and felt awful at the expression Alex greeted him with - one of disbelief, and angered confusion.

A small mercy; the house phone began to ring in the other room, and before Magda could rise to answer it, Mr. Cook was excusing himself from the table to take care of it. Magda looked between Alex and Jamie, her face one of disappointment towards the latter, and she rose from the table, too. “I’ll check on dessert,” she offered quietly.

Jamie let out a breath and ran a hand over his hair. “Sorreh,” he offered quietly. “Me Da can joost be so…” he trailed off and gave Alex an expectant look. “You know.”

“No,” Alex answered truthfully. “I _don’t_ 'know'. What I _do_ know is that you seem to think your father has a problem with our relationship when honestly, Jamie...I think you’re the one who’s struggling.”

Jamie’s jaw dropped. “Wha-what the fook are you talkin’ about?”

Alex shrugged and then gestured to the table. “Joost that your father has been very welcoming, as far as I can tell, but you’re...you’re looking for a fight. Or expectin’ one.”

“Great, now you’re gonna start in on me, too?”

“Jameh, m’not startin’ anyfin’,” Alex implored. “I’m pointin’ out the obvious.”

“Oh, aye, wiv me Da’ makin’ comments about you cookin’, or crawlin’ all over me, or-”

“Or you callin’ me one o’the ‘women’?”

Jamie winced. “I didn’t mean it like tha’.”

Alex knew it to be true. “Joost like I’m certain your Da doesn’t mean anythin’ by it. I mean… Isn’t that what parents do? Give you a hard time? He’d say the same fing if I were a girl, would he not?” Alex peered closer at Jamie. “Jameh...your Da knows you’re bi, but...have you ever even brought a guy home? Or introduced him to a guy you’re datin’?”

Jamie looked away from Alex, and stared down at his bowl. “No,” he mumbled. He reached and toyed with the corner of his napkin. “Haven’t...haven’t really ever brought anyone home, to be honest. Not like this - not someone I-” He broke off before he could finish and took another breath, which he let go with a sigh.

The corner of Alex’s mouth quirked up. It was safe to say he was more than touched by Jamie’s admission, and he felt his heart give a little flutter. Reaching out, he took Jamie’s hand in his once more, running his thumb over the back of it. “So...fair to say this is a relatively new playin’ field for bof of ya?”

“Aye.”

Alex sat back in his chair. “I wish you would have told me that sooner - your Da’s never met _anyone_ you’ve dated?”

“He’s met girls, yeah, but always at, like...school functions, or on campus, or when I brought someone to his firm’s Christmas party but...I’ve...it’s never been anyfin’ serious, yeah?”

Alex allowed himself a small smile. “Is that what we are? Serious?”

Jamie lifted a brow and gave Alex a steady look. “As a heart attack, Al. I hope you know that - that I’m not joost fookin’ about.”

“I know that,” Alex replied thickly, using his free hand to push Jamie’s hair behind his ear and then cup his jaw. “I’m not fookin’ about, either.”

“I know,” Jamie echoed.

“So...let’s agree to not fook about here, aye? We are one hundred percent wiv your Da. If you’re wiv me, then you’re wiv me, everyone else be damned. He’s tryin’, you know? Your Da. You could do him the same courtesy.”

A bright smile lifted Jamie’s features, and Alex’s heart at the same time, but he stared silently into Alex’s eyes for a moment.

“Wot?” Alex asked softly, tipping his head towards Jamie.

“Old soul, that’s what you are,” Jamie murmured, his eyes flickering to Alex’s mouth. He met Alex’s eyes once more. “How did I get so lucky?”

“Luck had nowt to do wiv it,” Alex replied. A second later, he added. “Or maybe it were bad luck, your poor Jeep dyin’ on you that night.”

“My dad offered to replace it a month beforehand,” Jamie softly admitted, closing the distance between him and Alex.

“Hmm,” Alex murmured dreamily, gazing into Jamie’s eyes. “And you declined because you’re stubborn?”

“Aye,” Jamie smiled.

“Remind me to thank him, then. For the offer, and for the inheritance.” He gently fitted his mouth to Jamie’s, cutting off all other words. His heart thrummed wildly in his chest at the feel of Jamie’s lips against his, and his fingers tightened where they still twined in Jamie’s hair.

Jamie relaxed into Alex’s touch, and his taste, and his familiar warmth. A thought flitted through his mind then, and he reached out and snatched it, and clung to it as Alex broke away for a breath before slipping his tongue against Jamie’s. The four walls surrounding Jamie may have been a house, but in those moments Jamie knew that Alex was his home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the heart’s split second decisions make all the difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sort of sad that this one is coming to a close! But it ends on such a lovely note. Short and sweet is sometimes all you need.

Jamie had been carrying the ring around since Sunday. It was Thursday now, and Thursday seemed just as good as any day to ask. Or maybe Friday? He could wait another day, he supposed, but the small, platinum band had been burning a hole in his heart, stuffed into the inside jacket of his coat as it was. He was definitely going to ask before Saturday. Or Sunday. Sunday would be the cut off; then it would be a week and that was long enough to linger on the idea that had been dancing around his mind since August. 

He'd bought the ring in September. October had been entirely too busy with projects at work, and Alex was swamped with new students and preparing his application for his fellowship in the English department. It was November now, and a Thursday, and had been raining since last night. He walked briskly along the rain-streaked streets, briefcase in one hand, the other jammed deep into his coat pocket, and his chin buried in the thick, claret wool scarf Alex had gifted him with last Christmas. 

It was cold enough he could see his breath puffing and clinging on the air, but he kept his pace steady. He knew the route well - he and Alex had plans to meet in Emerson Park on the foot bridge where the Japanese maple clung to autumn's chill in a vermillion curtain. It was their bridge, where they’d met on too many evenings to count, Jamie done with his day as an intern at Wootton House, and Alex usually lugging a satchel full of notes and old, musty books with little scraps of paper marking the pages. They’d lean on that bridge, sun, moon, rain, sleet, every day, and catch up, or perhaps just perch their arms on the handrail and lean over, watching the small stream meander lazily under their feet.

Tonight might be different, of course, and the thought made Jamie pause for a moment. He thought back to a November night, not as brisk as this, but with the same quality of night, and a similar feeling of anticipation. Had he known back then, as he ran from _The Duck and Lion_ to his opening presentation at the Fraser Memorial Library, that he’d meet the person he’d want to spend the rest of his life with that night, he wouldn’t have believed it. And at the time, upon first glance of those dark, glossy waves, and the first word spoken in that low, velvet voice, Jamie hadn’t thought much beyond the look in the lad’s eyes, and the way he worried his bottom lip.

Now, of course, he had a myriad of tiny nuances of Alex’s that Jamie loved to catalogue, and often he’d find himself just staring while Alex buried his almost too-big-nose in a book, or slid his glasses back to keep his hair from his face. At work he was guilty of daydreaming, thinking about the way Alex stretched, or laughed, or the corners of his eyes creased when he really smiled, the way he liked his eggs, the way he took his tea, what his preferred drink at the pub was, and how hard he’d cried when his nan had passed away last spring.

Or how much he’d howled in triumph when his application for fellowship had been accepted just last week. The memory made Jamie smile and his feet continued the well known path. He didn’t have anything prepared in terms of a speech, grand words of love and devotion - he was going to wing it. He just had to pick his moment.

+

“Hey, love.”

Alex smiles where he’s huddled under his umbrella, chin and cheeks buried in the deep collar of his wool coat, and he glances up as Jamie sidles next to him, his hair damp from the quick walk over from the office. Jamie's dress code as of late is something of a sight, and Alex pauses to take in the clean lines of Jamie's charcoal slacks, a far cry from his own relaxed uniform of dark wash jeans and oxford shirts, cardigans and turtlenecks. Underneath Jamie's wool coat, Alex knows there's a matching vest and jacket tailored to fit Jamie's frame, a dark grey dress shirt, pewter tie, and braces on the slacks. Alex had watched Jamie dress this morning, and had almost been late leaving for the university. His man was sharp, no question about it, and sometimes he wondered how he'd gotten so lucky. He'd warned Jamie to take his umbrella, but the blond had been stubborn, and was now damp from head to toe. Sighing, Alex shakes his head and tilts his umbrella back, motioning for Jamie to join him. The blond readily accepts, his cheeks flushed, and Alex frowns a bit and reaches his hand to brush the water away from Jamie’s brow.

“You’re gonna catch cold out here, you realize that,” Alex murmurs, his mouth tilting up as he presses up onto his toes and kisses Jamie’s cheek.

Jamie hums and turns his head at that moment, catching Alex off guard with a swift, deep kiss that is unexpected, but certainly welcome. The younger lad is blushing when Jamie pulls away.

“Wot was tha’ for?” Alex murmurs, staring at Jamie’s mouth.

“Missed ya, is all,” Jamie shrugs, tucking Alex under his arm and pulling him closer.

“Oh, yeah?” Alex chuckles. “You joost saw me this mornin’.”

“Been a long day,” Jamie replies. “Lots on me mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not yet,” Jamie shakes his head. He turns them to lean on the bridge, pressed into each other’s shoulders as the rain starts to pelt the umbrella a little harder. “Tell me about your day.”

So, Alex does. He settles his weight into Jamie’s side and begins to regale Jamie with a few anecdotes about class, and the lecture, and some of the work the students hand in. “It’s abysmal, really, Jamie. Deplorable in some cases, barely passable in others. Honestly, I weep for the next generation of teachers.”

“Listen to you, like you’ve just gotten tenure.” Jamie gently prods his elbow into Alex’s side, a gentle ribbing between lovers.

“Look, I busted me arse off to get where I am, they could at least do me the courtesy of not thinking I’m a fookin’ idiot.”

“You, my love, are the furthest thing from,” Jamie swears, pressing his fingers to Alex’s jaw and bringing his dark gaze around to meet his own.

Alex lets out a breath and feels himself become a little helpless under Jamie’s spell. At the same time, he is lifted, speechless, close to throwing himself at Jamie and making grand declarations of love that make his heart soar, and his stomach lurch at the same time. Jamie grounds him one moment, and hurls him into the abyss in the next, and some days Alex is certain that he’ll wake up from this terribly flawless dream, cold and alone. Suddenly, he’s blinking rapidly and looking away, swallowing the emotional that is thick, and aching in the back of his throat. Beside him, Jamie is silent, ever patient.

After a moment, Alex continues. “There isn’t a brain among them, except for maybe Douglas.” He snorts and shakes his head, glancing back to Jamie.

“Douglas?” Jamie echoes, grinning broadly. “Should I be worried?”

Alex laughs. “Not even, babeh. He’s scrawnier than I am an’ is stoned more often than not. Decent word smith, but no motivation. Contrary to popular belief, marijuana is not a performance enhancing drug.”

“Perhaps a giant bag of crisps if he gets his work in on time?”

Alex giggles, and falls into little peals of laughter, cuddled up under Jamie’s arm, wrapped in Jamie’s warmth and familiar scent, the very center, he dares to briefly think, of Jamie’s universe. When he looks to Jamie again, he’s not surprised to find the blond looking at him with utter adoration, but it still makes him a little unsettled. He’s never had someone pay this much attention to him before. Inevitably, Jamie’s unwavering gaze makes Alex blush, and he looks away, back out into the crisp, damp night.

“And what about you? What’s happening with the resurfacing of the old mail depot?” The project Alex mentions is small, but Jamie had been put at the helm on his third month with Wootton, and he’d taken it and run, and is in the last stages of design before it went for approval.

“M’very close,” Jamie murmurs. “Another two days, three at the most, and I think it’ll be sufficient to send off.”

The dark-eyed lad makes a face of disbelief where he stares at the way the rain needles into the stream. “Pah. ‘Sufficient’. Jamie Cook, you’ve never settled for sufficient. It’s perfection, or nowt, don’t try to tell me otherwise.” He looks back to Jamie on the last word, and the sound dies on the air.

Jamie is staring at Alex once more, and grasped gently in his fingers is a small, leather bound box which he holds out to Alex. “You’re my perfection.”

He says nothing more, and merely watches Alex, and Alex watches Jamie, taking in the hope in his bright blue eyes, and the rushing sound of rain, and his own heart, as they both drum on. His voice is locked, stolen with Jamie’s confession, and the conviction of his gesture. Alex feels himself begin to tremble, and his eyes prick from a wash of happiness, pure and blinding.

Jamie’s gaze is steady, and soft, and his beautiful mouth moves then. “So...whadaya say?”

What _could_ he say, and not sound like an idiot? Alex’s breath puffs out as his gaze flicks from the tiny boxy in Jamie’s gloved grasp to Jamie’s open expression, waiting, always waiting - Alex supposes that if he asked him to, Jamie would wait forever.

But this _was_ forever that Jamie was asking for. The notion sweeps over Alex’s head like a tidal wave, and he’s spinning, much like he was that first night he laid eyes on Jamie. He doesn’t think. He closes his eyes and lets his feet take him where they’ll always lead him, and when he opens his eyes again, he’s that much closer to Jamie, his hand closing over Jamie’s, and the box, clutching them both tightly so that Jamie knows he’ll never let go.

“Yes,” Alex rasps, pushing his mouth to Jamie’s in a hurried, hot kiss. “Always, yes. Forever, yes, Jamie.” He feels Jamie’s mouth smile against his own and realizes that while he is panicked at the notion he hasn’t even paused to think before replying, sometimes the heart’s split second decisions make all the difference.


End file.
